


the ink on your skin, the flowers in your hands

by A Caffeinated Crisis (TabbbyWright)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, I commit a lot of grammatical crimes, M/M, Rating will probably change, This'll be written in snippets of varying lengths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-12 01:37:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20163526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TabbbyWright/pseuds/A%20Caffeinated%20Crisis
Summary: Something about him was striking. He was underdressed for the weather, but he seemed unbothered. His hair was messy, he was smoking, dressed in all black. So many things that weren’t particularly special, but something about the way he held himself, something about the shape of his face.Something about the way he was looking at Takeru.Nothing more than coincidence and two people trying to find their way.





	the ink on your skin, the flowers in your hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crisantemu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crisantemu/gifts).

> MY FRIEND NOIR TWEETED ABOUT THIS PROMPT AND I WAS BIZARRELY SMITTEN? So I told her to write it so she told ME to write it so it's mine now I guess!!

The chill winter air was making Takeru’s nose run, his face twitching uncomfortably. Every step, every second he had to deal with it was proving more torturous, more annoying, but he was almost back to the flower shop—he was  _ almost there _ and the sooner he got back the sooner he could deal with this instead of just wiping his nose on his sleeve, which wouldn’t even  _ work _ given that leather was far from absorbent. 

Anyway, it was gross, and his arms were full of packages from the post office, so he was stuck suffering. 

_ Almost there… _ the city streets were quiet, comfortable. Trees had branches encased in glittering ice, sunlight passing through them but the air too cold to melt them. His footsteps were light against the concrete, and the contents of the boxes shifted quietly. Every inhale smelled of cold air and nothing more. 

_ Almost… there…! _

He turned down the street to the flower shop, his face tickling, frustrating mounting with every step he got closer. This was so frustrating  _ this was so frustrating— _

His thoughts were broken as he heard voices, saw two people standing in front of the tattoo shop across the street. Takeru looked as he got closer, curious about the figures. There were all sorts of people that came and went from there, mostly harmless, sometimes people that felt far too familiar: people who were dangerous. 

These two were young—a man and a woman, close to his age, maybe. 

“...jiki-san is still going after Kogami-san?” 

“I don’t think he intends on stopping.”

_ Maybe they’re yakuza… or whoever Jiki-san is, is… _ Takeru slowed his pace, kept his eyes in front of him, listened. He was almost to the shop. 

“He’s persistent.”

“He’s stupid.” 

“Maybe not,” the woman said, “Kogami-san keeps talking to him, after all.” 

Takeru stopped by the door, set down his stack of boxes and stole a glance across the street. The woman was unremarkable, well dressed, but plain. 

The man though—something about him was striking. He was underdressed for the weather, but he seemed unbothered. His hair was messy, he was smoking, dressed in all black. So many things that weren’t particularly special, but something about the way he held himself, something about the shape of his face. 

Something about the way he was looking at Takeru now, studying him—

Takeru threw open the door of the flower shop and quickly went inside, his heart pounding in his chest. What was he doing? What had he been  _ doing _ staring at potentially dangerous people like that?! 

Well, maybe they weren’t. They probably weren’t. But what if they were—

“Takeru?” 

Kiku frowned, eyes full of gentle concern. He didn’t like it when she looked at him like this—he didn’t like knowing that he was causing her problems, causing her worry, adding needless stress worrying about  _ him. _

“It’s nothing! Nothing at all!” He laughed, awkwardly, forced, she was definitely going to start asking questions, he was going to stress her out—

“You’re being weird. What happened out there?”

“Um.” His face twitched, “I need to blow my nose!” 

With that, he bolted away from the door and across the shop before she could protest, ducking into the bathroom and locking the door. He needed to calm down. He needed to  _ relax. _ There was nothing wrong! Those people probably weren’t dangerous, so Takeru didn’t need to think about that electrifying gaze. There was nothing to think about. Nothing to worry about. 

He blew his nose and washed his face before stepping back out into the flower shop to see Kiku wrestling with the door with one of the larger boxes in her hands. 

_ Someone could’ve stolen those… _ He thought, annoyed with himself. But he wouldn’t let himself dwell on that right now. They hadn’t been stolen, they were right there! So everything was okay. 

He quickly pushed the door open with his hip a bit more, taking the boxes from Kiku with ease. She scowled at him, putting the remaining boxes atop the ones in his arms. 

“Did you see a ghost or something?”

“ _ Kiku _ . No, I didn’t see a ghost.” Takeru frowned, “It’s too bright for ghosts anyway.” 

“Uh huh,” She rolled her eyes, “Well if nothing happened, or you’re not gonna tell me anyway, can you try not to have a crisis that involves leaving supplies outside?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” Takeru stole a glance across the street: they were gone, “It won’t happen again.” 


End file.
